


A Brief Respite

by greygerbil



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: Gladio does not plan on neglecting his duties just because he has the flu, but Ignis has other plans for his sick boyfriend and he is just as hard-headed.





	A Brief Respite

**Author's Note:**

> For Gladio Fluff Week, Day 1: Cuddles/Being Read To OR Sleeping In

It began with a cough that Gladio kept biting down on as he stood guard during a meeting of the ruling council, and continued with coughing fits that kept him awake during the night, resulting in deep exhaustion that in turn had him royally fuck up the morning training session with Cor and trot into to locker rooms knowing he’d have many well-earned bruises tomorrow. When he looked at his own feverishly red face in the mirror after washing off the blood and sweat, Gladio admitted to himself that he probably had caught some stupid bug, after all.

Being sick had always been nothing but a massive inconvenience to him. Obviously he wasn’t going to skip out on his duties because of a little cold, so now he had to do everything with a pounding headache and a vague feeling of nausea. Because he found himself throwing up after breakfast the next morning, he started skipping meals and only forced down small sips of water. The lack of food wasn’t making him any better at not getting beat up by fellow Crownsguards in the sparring room, but at least he wasn’t running to the bathroom every half hour instead of doing his rounds at the castle. He was constantly alternating between hot and cold, so either he wore two shirts under his uniform and an extra pair of socks, or he ripped off everything but his leather jacket. Being dizzy all the time at least proved to be an interesting test for his sense of balance. His voice was starting to sound like two stones rubbing together and hurt his throat while speaking, so he kept quiet, which Noctis was probably happy about because he couldn’t nag him now for slacking off in practice, which meant someone was getting something out of this, at least.

It worked, but all day Gladio was wistfully looking forward to the moment when he dragged himself up the stairs to his apartment. It was starting to look like a dump, with his old clothes discarded on the floor and the sink still piled with plates and cutlery he’d meant to clean right before that fucking cold hit. Worse than Noctis, he thought to himself, as he kicked off his shoes before he collapsed on the sofa. He hadn’t been at his family’s home this week, either, and he would usually drop by every other day to talk to his sister. Iris was already sending him sad texts that he could barely read because his eyes burned too much to focus on the tiny screen. Right, he’d been meaning to answer her, that was probably why it felt like he was forgetting something, Gladio thought to himself. He’d just rest his eyes for a moment and then get to that.

A sharp ringing noise tore him from his sleep. Gladio sat up straight, habitually alert, and immediately regretted it as the world started spinning around him. He pawed for his phone on the couch table, but when he found it in the process of almost knocking it to the floor with a shaky swipe, he saw that the screen was black. It took him a few moments to recognise his doorbell.

With a frown, Gladio clambered to his feet. Who could that be at this hour? The clock on the wall said it was half past eight.

He opened the door to find Ignis standing there, looking fashionable as always in a button-up shirt, slacks and suspenders, which stood in stark contrast to Gladio’s creased ceremonial Crownsguard uniform that he hadn’t changed out of yet. Ignis stared at Gladio in mild consternation.

“Ignis?” Gladio croaked. “What’re you doing here? Thought you were staying at Amatus’ villa sorting out his city planning stuff.”

There were far more details Ignis had given him concerning the matter, but they were lost somewhere in the impermeable haze of fog his brain was clouded in.

“I was. I came back today, as planned. I told you I would before I left,” Ignis said slowly. “We had a date?”

“Shit, did we?” Gladio didn’t remember, to be honest, but now that Ignis said it, it sounded right. Anyway, his boyfriend was like a human calendar, he wasn’t wrong about that kind of thing. “Sorry, I, uh... I’ll get dressed.”

“Gladio, you look awful.”

“Well, thanks,” Gladio muttered.

Ignis pulled off a glove and resolutely placed his palm against Gladio’s forehead. It was nice and cool and Gladio could barely resist leaning into his hand like a clingy pet.

“You’re burning up.”

“It’s fine, I just caught a cold and – hey!” Gladio grabbed Ignis by the elbow as he pushed past him inside the apartment. “If you hang around here, you’ll get sick, too.”

“I’ll have an elixir later. It can prevent an infection. You’re obviously too deep in for magic to do the trick,” Ignis said, closing the door before Gladio’s nose.

“I just have to sleep it off.”

Gladio pushed off the doorframe, which proved to be a mistake, as his knees had not been prepared to carry his whole weight without support. He stumbled, and if it hadn’t been for Ignis catching him by the shoulder, he probably would have collided with the table.

“Gladio...”

The bewilderment in Ignis’ voice had made room for actual concern, which just made Gladio feel worse. There was no need for his boyfriend to worry over something like this.

“Sorry. Just a bit dizzy.” He straightened. “It’ll wear off, just give it a couple days. I’m tough.”

“Were you at work like this?” Ignis asked, heedless of his reassurance, as he reconsidered the uniform Gladio was wearing.

“Like I’m taking days off for a cold?” Gladio asked, crossings his arms in front of his chest.

Ignis just shook his head.

“Have you had dinner yet?”

“I can’t really keep anything down,” Gladio admitted.

“What about tea? Water? Have you been drinking enough?”

Once upon a time Gladio may have tried to argue with Ignis, but you really couldn’t stop him when he got like this and answering his questions was ultimately going to be easier on Gladio’s raw throat than an endless discussion. Even if it was unnecessary, Gladio thought, it was sweet of Ignis to care so much. 

“Drinking’s also not so great on my stomach. I’ve had a bit.”

Ignis adjusted his glasses.

“How long has that been going on?”

“I don’t know – three days, four?”

“I might have to take you to the hospital for an IV if it keeps up until the morning,” Ignis said as he glanced around the room, eyes scanning the mess Gladio had made.

“Oh, come the fuck on. It’s a cold.”

“It’s the flu, and you’re probably dehydrated. I’m going down to the shop to buy a few things. You should get undressed and go to bed.”

“Iggy, you just came back from work and I know how annoying Amatus can be. I’ll survive even if you take it easy for a bit.”

“It’ll be severely less stressful for me if you just do what I tell you,” Ignis said, primly.

Gladio rolled his eyes, but threw up his hands. Aching all over and his voice already failing from the little bit of speaking he had done, he really wasn’t in the shape to fight, and it wasn’t like Ignis didn’t win most of their arguments, anyway.

“Spare key is on the drawer.”

When Ignis had left, he slinked off to the bedroom and peeled off his uniform, making the effort to drape it over the back of his chair. In boxer shorts and undershirt, he crawled under the blanket. It felt like a furnace under there, but he knew that it wasn’t a good idea for him to lie around mostly naked and uncovered.

Half-awake, he eventually heard the door again, soft footsteps, the rumble of the water cooker heating up. Plates clinked and the tap ran. When Ignis came into the bedroom, he was carrying a steaming mug in one hand and a bowl with water in the other. A bottle and some wash towels were clamped under his arm.

“You don’t have to do my chores, too. I’m not the prince,” Gladio pointed out.

“Well, since I’m already here,” Ignis said, sitting by the side of the bed. He arranged everything he had carried on the nightstand, only holding the bottle to him. “The water is flat and lukewarm. Not very appealing, but it should be easy on your stomach.”

“You’d have made a good nurse,” Gladio muttered.

“I doubt I would have the patience to wrangle quarrelsome patients such as you if I didn’t like them way more than I should.”

Gladio chuckled and winced. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

Since Ignis had gone through the trouble, Gladio choked down two mouthfuls. While he closed the bottle, he watched Ignis drench one of the washcloths in the bowl of water and wring it out before he folded it.

“You’re really going all out, huh?”

“Somebody has to.”

A sigh escaped Gladio as the cold cloth met his overheated skin. With gentle swipes, Ignis wiped his face and neck before placing the washcloth on his forehead.

“That does feel good,” Gladio admitted.

“You should just consider that I’m right from the start in the future.”

“Well, I’m still not dying.”

“You don’t have to be on the verge of death to enjoy some attention from your boyfriend when you’re feeling unwell.”

Gladio felt his eyes slide shut as Ignis petted his chest with his other hand. He knew that he shouldn’t have given in so easily. Strength implied perseverance, hardiness, and silent suffering. These were virtues that had been hammered into his head when he’d been a child and he believed in them. Yet, Ignis made it so easy to falter.

His moment of blissful enjoyment was interrupted by another coughing fit. Ignis took the washcloth from his face before it had a chance to slide off as Gladio sat up, coughing and coughing, until he was desperately gasping for air in-between and tears prickled at the corners of his eyes.

Ignis handed him the tea when he had managed to gather his breath again, one hand between Gladio’s shoulder blades. It was sweetened with honey and bit his throat, but smoothed over the burn pretty fast. Gladio could only nod his thanks.

“I think I will stay the night,” Ignis said, carefully placing the washcloth back on his forehead when Gladio sank into the pillows. “Tomorrow morning, you can sleep in. I’ll call Cor.”

“I can go to work.”

“I’m sure you could, but the Citadel won’t crumble if you take a few days off.”

Gladio sighed. “You’re a bad influence.”

“I’ll take that burden on me.”

Ignis turned back to the nightstand to adjust the bowl and then picked up a book that had been lying there. Belatedly, Gladio remembered what it was, but he was too tired to feel more than a slight pang of embarrassment.

“A romance novel?” Ignis asked, surprised. “Weren’t you reading that naval military history book by Etticus Tamel?”

“Shut up. I couldn’t concentrate on long sentences,” Gladio muttered. “Now all letters just dance before my eyes, so it doesn’t matter.”

Ignis smiled, leafing through the book with his thumb.

“I could read to you if you wanted to. This looks like a true bodice ripper... I’m certainly interested to learn more about this scandalous new side of you.”

“I’m going to kick you out of bed,” Gladio threatened.

“You couldn’t kick a cat out of bed right now.”

Ignis opened the creased paperback on the folded piece of paper Gladio had stuffed inside as a bookmark and Gladio raised his hand to give him a push that ended up more of a caress. His hand dropped into Ignis’ lap.

“Hey,” he muttered. “You’re a pretty great boyfriend.”

“I know,” Ignis said, leaning down to kiss his cheek.


End file.
